


Sip This Wine and Toast

by FyrMaiden



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 04:12:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4376792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FyrMaiden/pseuds/FyrMaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam seeks Blaine's advice on how to make his wedding night perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sip This Wine and Toast

“Blaine, I know you’ve never been with a girl, but it’s me and Mercedes’ wedding night and I’m freaking out and I need advice so I don’t make her hate sex forever-” Sam gets the whole sentence out with barely a pause for breath, and Blaine bows his head to hide a smile. He can almost feel Sam’s tension through his pixelated face on his phone screen. When he does look up, Sam is chewing his lip, and his eyebrows are drawn tight with consternation.

“Have you ever had sex with someone who did end up hating it after?” he asks, and tries very hard not to remember the many times he’d thought of having sex with Sam, and the many times he’d imagined not hating himself or Sam at all. 

“No,” Sam says, slowly, and Blaine’s known him long enough to hear the incoming ‘but’. “But,” Sam continues, “That’s always been with girls who like, knew. Stuff.”

“Or - y’know, it was your first time once?” Blaine tries instead, because this is veering dangerously into territory he really doesn’t know, not personally. Like, he’s sat through the videos in health, and he’s seen TV, and he knows how sex works for opposite partners, technically, even if he’s not really thought about it for himself, or himself putting his hands there. Or his mouth. His mind blanks for a moment, and he can feel the terror snap his eyes shut. “Did you hate it?”

“I dunno,” Sam says. “I mean, I don’t really remember - it was when I was working in the-”

“Yeah,” Blaine says, remembers Sam saying. He thinks of his own first time instead, and how much he’d wanted it. How much he’d wanted Kurt. Imagines that maybe Mercedes feels the same, beneath the expectation and the fear. And weren’t they all scared, just a little, before trust and love win the raging battle… “Just - listen to her, man. Go at her speed. Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Respect her boundaries. Stop if she says stop. Talk about what she expects. I don’t-”

Sam’s face shifts, and Blaine stops talking for a second, listens to the change in Sam’s breathing. He feels like one of Ms. Pilsbury’s pamphlets brought to life, like he’s communicating in soundbites half remembered from classes that weren’t aimed at boys like him, but which had been immeasurably helpful all the same. Even when things were rough, sex had always been easy. 

“It’s not about me,” Sam says, and Blaine hums, because that’s - not entirely what he meant. But Sam is nodding his head, the crease between his eyebrows is smoothing, and he looks generally happier. “It’s not all about me,” he says again. 

“Mercedes is scared as well,” Blaine agrees, and Sam grins that familiar, wonky grin he’s had since they were teenagers, and Blaine feels the flutter of adoration flare again in his chest, wonders if he always will, and hopes it never dies, even if it’ll never be A Thing. 

“Thanks, man,” Sam says, and Blaine shrugs a shoulder. He’s been a sounding board for concern, not any actual help. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll check in tomorrow.”

“Or whenever,” Blaine says, thinks Mercedes may have words for him if Sam spends the first day of the rest of his life sharing details with him over Skype. Sam nods amiably, and Blaine disconnects the call.


End file.
